Short Story - 618, A.K.A. Asher

(First featured by RKYV e-zine.)

April 16, 2089
Bones in the earth’s soil are the proof that monsters roamed our planet. But some monster’s met their fate in a very different type of bone yard. Those monsters were melted down and recycled, rather than left to rot and be forgotten in the ground.
In their prime, they roamed the earth, carrying their passengers and good. All the while, they roared and whistled, a thunderstorm flying on wheels – and all the while, by some miracle, they worked under human control.

There has always been an aura around the majestic locomotive in front of its coaches. Even the ones pulling freight and trucks had an air of dignity about them. The sound of their eerie whistle and pounding pistons bothered some but calmed many more. To help rebuild and preserve their beauty would indeed be a fortunate, pleasing job for---

“Sam! Put that journal away and come here!”

Fiery redhead Samantha Whistler scowled from her seat at a circular table within the Steam Town Mall food court. Brianna, her mother, stood at the window of the spacious room. Clean and uptight from the neat violet blouse on her torso to the sophisticated dark denim on her legs, she seemed frustrated with Sam for daring to record personal thoughts in public, if not at all.
Maybe, Sam reasoned in her logical mind, she was afraid of what those personal thoughts might be: more “trouble”, more “rebelling”, if that was what chasing dreams really meant. After all, compared to those clean and pressed clothes on her mother, Sam’s loose v-neck charcoal shirt and ripped denim was pure trash.

Sam sighed, closing the journal with an audible thump. Her mother’s window reflection scowled deeply; Sam’s little brother, Ted, was tugging at his mother’s hand in impatience.

As he distracted Brianna, Sam slipped her green Mead notebook into her checkerboard pattern shoulder bag and stood, joining her family at the enormous window. Beside them was the door that led to a outdoors wooden deck. The deck, littered with electronic information boards that read themselves when commanded, connected to a winding ramp that reminded Sam of a roller coaster line. The ramp ended at a platform and station at the end of the museum’s property.
Brianna suddenly huffed, noisily striking a strand of pale blonde hair off of the shoulder of her blouse with cold, bony fingers. Sam found herself wondering how the hair had even escaped from the thick, tight bun on Brianna’s head.

Sam hid her agitation and turned her eyes from the door to observe the land stretching away from the mall and ramp. Below, the historic site remained a replica of a century left behind by most. Any workers were human rather than machine, each simulating the hard jobs of railway workers. Multiple branches of rail track branched from the museum’s red storage barn. More steel rails ran past the station or beneath a replicated coal shoot. Scattered on display on the tracks were preserved coaches and engines, all gleaming proudly. Visitors strolled on the graveled aisles between the tracks, admiring the years of work being dedicated to each item at the museum. A line of six green coaches sat beside the russet barn, complete with a matching caboose in the back and a baggage truck in the front.

Brianna’s sighs were becoming incredibly interruptive, too much so for Sam to ignore. There were a lot of things she couldn’t ignore – like how her mother insisted she one day drop her time with her mostly male friends to attend an old-fashioned manner school as ancient as the machines here at Steam Town. And because Sam wouldn’t enroll, Brianna took her payback from demanding babysitting duty quite often.

It could have been because Sam’s father left years ago, leaving one working parent to care for the two children. There truly might not be money to pay for another sitter. More likely, Sam suspected, Brianna was creating a busy schedule to keep Sam from applying for jobs at scrap yards and repair shops. It was her way of hiding Sam, of locking her and throwing away the key that would have let Sam loose herself and go to work with her friends in a predictable schedule.
Her thoughts turning bitter, Sam subconsciously rubbed her brother’s head. Ted remained at her side, laughing at the sensation. Brianna huffed again, biting back a comment about not touching another in public, before smiling. “Are you two excited for the trip?”

“I am, I am!” An ardent Ted jumped up and down. Sam smiled and nodded over the bouncing head.

Much more than you, she added silently. Despite the smile on her pale face, Brianna was cringing inside. She had wanted to take a plane to visit family in D.C., arguing that it was faster and cleaner than anything else available. Before she had reserved their tickers for the flight, Sam found a brochure advertising a special trip from the local museum. The museum was beginning to offer round-trip tickets, cheaper than the airlines, for travel to those who were interested in traveling on updated technology with a historical spin to it. Sam had showed the brochure to her brother, and told him this trip would mean he not have to sit in a cramped, smelly airline seat like he had on last year’s trip. With Ted in her arsenal, she had been able to strategically debate with and work her mother into submission.

Now they were waiting for the train to begin boarding. They had already submitted their baggage to be numbered and loaded. All they had remaining in their hands were their carry-ons.
“Where do you think our train is?” Brianna asked, already impatient, convinced she could be sitting on an airplane at that very moment.

There was a loud clang below as one of the stations below rang an enormous bell to call attention to the area. Visitors were ushered away from the displayed items by overalled volunteers. The visitors were told to stand on the station and sidewalks, and then ordered not to wander off of the sidewalks until the train had left in an hour or two.

Sam smiled at the bustle. “This is probably it!” she told her mother excitedly. She walked around her mother and pushed the food court door open to step onto the ramp and see what would happen.

A man in overalls pushed a door of the russet barn open. Standing a slight distance from the track was a man in a black suit, white shirt, and chain pocket watch: the uniform of the conductor. In his ear was a small but sensitive earpiece and microphone that replaced old-fashioned shouting or static-plagued radio. He beckoned to the shape inside of the barn, waving his hand and speaking clearly into the wired equipment he wore. “Bring her out!”

Steam began leaking from the open doors, and the sound of pushing gears echoed outwards. And finally, slowly, carefully, and gracefully, the newly rebuilt and modernized steam engine slid noisily out of her stall within the barn. She was welcomed by a loud gasp of awe. Several children shrieked in delight at the sight; their parents were too stunned to order them to behave.

Though the beautiful locomotive appeared to be the same build as her steam ancestors, her insides were built with electric motors and several sturdy, strong batteries that collected their power from transparent solar panels on the top and sides of the engine. She mimicked the 4-6-6-4 engine and retained the Challenger’s glamorous appearance. She had been painted a beautiful, shining jeweled green, and she glimmered under the sun. The small bronze bell set on the top of her front metal plate clanged. Beneath her bell fresh white paint formed her number, 618.

Inside of her cab, her lean and lank electrician laughed. “Save your strength, beautiful,” he told the machine. The toned and tanned motorman chuckled.

“Don’t worry, Henry. Our Asher can handle a little viewing, rebuilt or not. We’re getting extra payments depending on how much people donate or comment on this little spectacle, too. Let her help us out if she wants.”

He then pulled on a rope hanging near his open window. Among all of the dials meant to run the engine in place of her firebox, this single piece of equipment was the most primitive. No one had wanted to update the rope. It would have eliminated the chance to make a historically classic pose and noise all visitors recognized.

The whistle of engine 618, A.K.A. Asher, shrieked along with the delighted children. And indeed, she sounded as haunting and beautiful as her ancestors had. The sound floated gently over all of the communities surrounding the museum.

As the engine left her stall within the barn, Sam’s brother ran out the door to join her, excited. “Sam, come on! Lets go ahead of Mom, I wanna see the engine!”

It took several tugs to draw Sam out of her silence. She was as awe-struck by the sight of the beautiful engine as everyone else. The skill that had gone into designing such a sight for modern-day workings…

“No, bro. Let’s wait for Mom,” Sam told him reluctantly. “It’ll make her happy, at least.” Brianna lumbered up behind the two, reluctantly impressed. Asher had rumbled past the station to a round of applause, shrieks, and catcall whistles. The track she had rolled down had been laid two lanes over from the station. Now the enormous engine continued on to one of the switches. As she prepared to cross and carefully move back to the platform, a jade-painted tank engine carefully and slowly pushed the line of coaches beside the barn to the platform. They were just as much a spectacle as their proud locomotive. All were painted in a shade of green to match the beautiful engine, with white window frames and wheel axles.

When the family had ambled down the lengthy ramp with their luggage to join the growing crowd of passengers on the large station, 618 was proudly coupled to her coaches. The motorman waved out of his window to the eager crowd, taking time every few minutes to check that the engine’s multiple dials and settings were normal in the cabin.

“I wish I could be up there,” Sam sighed as she watched the motorman.

“”No daughter of mine will participate in such an unladylike behavior!” A nettled Brianna warned Sam with a severe glare. “I tolerate your dress and your friends at my house, but that is all I will tolerate!” Sam looked between the engine, her mother, and the ground, unwillingly retreating.

“This is so small a crowd!” Brianna complained noisily, convinced she’d won the war. The bustling platform was full of passengers; Brianna herself was used to the considerably more crowded terminals of the airlines. The smaller train platform was foreign and unnatural to her.
“Ma’am, I hope this is not going to dissuade you,” a voice begged. Brianna turned to see a dirty-blonde haired man in a navy blue suit. A nametag clipped to his shirt proclaimed him as one of the workers for the trip. “This train is the museum’s pride and joy. Six coaches plus the baggage and caboose is enough work for her after her recent last-minute touch ups.”

The engine before them huffed as he spoke, releasing a thin jet of steam from the roof of her long body; the motorman patted her gleaming cabin with a chuckle. “He isn’t trying to offend you, silly girl,” he told the engine. 618 seemed to calm beneath his hand; the steam eased off and she did not huff a second time.

Brianna apprehensively eyed the train once more, the man in the suit kneeling to lift her carry-on. “Thank you, sir,” she eventually told him. “I am in room 36, car 4, I believe…” With this information in mind, the man led Brianna to the correct coach, her items in tow.

Sam and Ted followed the man and their mother through the narrow hallways of the fourth coach. The man said he would arrive as promptly as possible if they pressed the red button by the door handle. With a tip of his hat, he excused himself and retreated to his duties on the platform.

Sam and Ted remained with Brianna long enough to place their items in the room. Then, with her younger brother safely in tow and Brianna’s permission, Sam went back outside to admire the beautiful train. She settled on one of the benches, smiling as the seat automatically began vibrating and massaging her back. Ted laughed at the sensation, wiggling in his seat.

Despite the relaxation the bench offered, Sam felt sad and out of place as workers began to bring on the suitcases passengers had dropped off earlier in the day. She wanted to be one of the workers, wanted to have the chance to explore the engine…

“She’s beautiful, huh?” The man who had taken Brianna’s baggage on board had reemerged. “A good 201,000 hours were spent rebuilding this beauty. You know, she has a sister engine, engine 610. Built at the same time originally, when they were still trapped in Diesel technology.”
“610…that was the first Glowtrain to safely carry nuclear waste without incident, right?” Sam asked.

“Good girl,” the man beamed. Sam now looked at him, brown eyes to brown eyes, and realized he was much younger than she had originally suspected. He offered a callused hand. “The name’s Alex.”

“Samantha – Sam,” she replied, taking the hand and shaking it firmly.

“Good handshake. You must be pretty confident in yourself to have such a good grip,” Alex complimented her.

Sam looked for a new topic that would hide a blush. “This is Ted, she lamely attempted. The little boy cowered behind his sister, to her benign amusement.

There was a scream from the back of the train. Before anyone could move, an unshaven and dirty man had emerged from the back door of the sixth coach attached to the train. A silver clutch bag clearly belonging to a woman was clasped firmly in his hand. The two security guards in sight were already running down towards them, but were only at the top of the lengthy ramp.

Laughing gleefully, the man ran down the length of the platform. There were shouts as the museum visitors dispersed away from him. Somehow his hands never actually made contact with any of the unfortunate people he knocked to the ground.

As he swiftly drew closer, Sam could see a silver bracelet around his arm giving off a red glow; it was a Deflector, a machine usually sold to police to deflect mobs.

The criminal passed Sam and the group. Alex had jumped to his feet at the sound of the scream, and now tried to grab the man. The man swung an arm out, and the invisible force field his bracelet formed sent Alex crashing against the concrete platform stomach-down with a painful thump. Sam, though holding the frightened Ted in her arms, tried to trip the man while his attention was diverted; she quickly straightened one of her legs out towards the man. She managed to hit his knee.

He stumbled but did not fall with the same strength as Alex. He craned his head to find the cause of his fall and sent a malicious glare towards Sam. Ted cowered further into his sister’s embrace. As she held him, Sam glared directly back at the man, unafraid.

“Bitch!” the man shouted.

Before the criminal could react further, the green locomotive beside him released bolts of electricity from between her massive wheels. The unsuspecting man screamed in pain and fell to his knees, shivering with a seizure-like violence.

Sam stared at the engine before her in frightened bewilderment. The motorman above laughed as he began to climb down the narrow footsteps that dotted their way up the cabin. “Ha! And they say a machine is merely a tool! If that were true we could design a robot that was safe to operate and didn’t eventually rebel and die in the recycling bins. Machines ain’t tools to be used. They’re more human than we are, down to their morals and personalities! Ain’t that right, Asher?!”

Asher whistled proudly. Sam was shocked; the motorman’s hand was nowhere near the rope. The electrician was beneath her line of sight, kneeling down to check Asher’s power monitor. The beautiful locomotive had whistled by its – her - own free will.

There was a small thump as the fried remains of the man’s Deflector fell to the ground. Alex stumbled to his feet, recovering from the blow he had been dealt. Sam patted Ted gently on his head as Alex grabbed the man’s arms and pinned them to his back. It didn’t appear that he wanted to move any time soon.

“Will he be OK?” Ted asked, frightened. Somehow he had found concern for the cause of his fright.

“Yes, sir!” Asher’s electrician called down. “She can release electricity to relieve her circuits, or in this case, deliver some fine justice, but only so much at a time. It’s like steam blowing out was to her ancestors – they only released enough to relieve pressure without losing all of their power. That was a small jolt our thief felt there.”

Small? Sam asked herself. The revealing of this other side of the machine, powerful and free-willed, was almost frightening.

The security guards had arrived, handcuffs ready. The clutch bag was retrieved, and with the moaning man in police custody, Alex began the walk to the end of the six-car train to return the item, still rubbing his head.

“C’mon, Ted,” Sam told her brother as she finally found her own steadiness again. “We had better go inside.”

Brianna, of course, wanted to know what the commotion outside had been. It took Sam and Ted the considerable part of ten minutes to update their mother. All the while, Asher’s coaches were loaded with both baggage and passengers eager to set out.

At the end of the tale, Brianna blanched and exclaimed, “But, children, this train clearly isn’t safe if a crime was committed right outside!”

It took another ten minutes of arguing to keep Brianna on the train.

“Mom!” Sam growled near the end of their debate in frustration. “The engine herself stopped the crime!”

Brianna shuddered. “Machines with genders, machines taking sides…that frightens me more than---“

There was a shrill whistle outside of the coach. One of the conductors shouted out to the front of the train.

As her motorman began to release her brakes, and her electrician carefully opened her circuits to allow power to flow through her, Asher began to move. Brianna settled into one of her seats in knowing defeat. Sam and Ted smiled as they gazed out of the window.

The exit Asher made from the station was smooth. The visitors to the museum cheered again as the glorious train left the station, and headed down the tracks that left the museum. The tracks wound their way out of the city; Asher huffed through Scranton carefully and slowly, at barely ten miles per hour. The citizens stopped their electric cars and honked friendly greetings at the black-and-white crossing gates; people waved from the weed-riddled tracks that left the city.

Finally, as the last coach left the borders of Scranton, Asher whistled one last time in farewell and began to build her speed. Her black wheels spun and pounded the track, still without jolting the coaches behind her. Even Brianna relaxed under the calm feeling of the coaches following their powerful electric steam engine.

“I think I could use a nap,” Brianna eventually declared. “Children, go see the display car, please?”

Sam and Ted eagerly left their mother in peace. The pair walked hand-in-hand through the hallways of the coaches, eventually entering the one just behind the baggage car. Its windows were massive and powerful glass, covering three quarters of the walls and the ceiling. The entire coach seemed to be nothing more than a transparent door to the world outside. The area directly before them was nothing but a green and brown blur, not very interesting to the eye aside from an occasional flash of color. The true treat was the distance: snow-capped mountains hued with purple, along with green grasslands and various species of tree at their base. Small towns also flew past, and the train outraced the cars on the occasionally visible highway.

“It’s so beautiful,” Sam sighed. “And to think Mother was worried about the speed and comfort!”
Alex appeared from behind them, carrying an empty tray. “Already working on room service,” he explained with a grin. “Give me one minute…” He went off to the bar to return the tray. For the first time since they had left the food court at the museum and mall, Sam saw a sign of the modern day: an old but sturdy model of robot was behind the counter, preparing the food and drink and managing the cash register.

As Sam took a seat, she felt a wave of pity for the machine. The poor thing looked out of place inside the coach, a preserved relic of the past. His presence explained why volunteers and human workers ran the historical Scranton site and museum.

When Alex returned, Ted was bouncing on one of the leather seats, expressing his happiness through small shrieks of joy. “Easy, lad,” Alex laughed.

Then he looked at Sam sitting in the chair beside him, her bag on the carpeted floor and journal in hand. She smiled and closed it when she caught him looking. “What is it, sir?” she asked. “If it’s about Ted, I am sorry---“

“It isn’t,” Alex assured her. “I have some news to bring you. When you went inside your coach the second time, the electrician spoke to me. He said he caught Asher eying you earlier in the day.”

Sam stared at Alex, disbelief on her face. “Huh? But how---“

“She directs her circuit’s energy to one spot. Then she can observe the reflections on her solar panels,” the man explained. “Sounds bizarre, I know, but she is as real as you or I.”

“I believe it. All machines have personalities like people. Even our cars.” Sam smiled. “Our cars just haven’t begun to capture criminals in such a showy fashion yet.”

Alex laughed. “I like the way you think. Well, the electrician said that when you return home, he wants you to take a job under him to learn repairs and management. He said he’s getting old and needs someone to know his job, and apparently he thinks Asher judged you worthy after watching and hearing you today.”

Sam stared, and finally began to stutter as her very core warmed inside. Brianna’s rules sat ignored in her mind. “I…I would love it!”

“Great!” Alex stood and wiped a spot of dust off of his pants. “Have to appear presentable to the guests,” he said. “The one downside of this job. Well, I hope I’ll see you working at the barn soon!” he told Sam. He saluted her as he walked to the bar to pick up another tray.

As Asher puffed proudly towards Washington, her coaches in tow, Sam leaned back in her chair, beaming. Her pen quivered in her hand as her gaze fell to the lined paper in her lap, and she began to write with a fervor she had never felt before.

This trip is turning out to be the best thing I ever convinced the family to participate in. Already, I have learned just how much the trains of the past have evolved. I would dare to say I have even made a new friend with one of them. The locomotive herself heard me state one of my desires, and decided after the events with the robber that I might be worthy material aboard her!
Mother doesn’t know; but she isn’t going to hold me back when I tell her what’s happened. I’ll be honest with her, of course. But I can’t pretend she’ll turn me into a proper, old fashioned woman any longer, not when the most beautiful engine I have ever seen looked at me, and chose me! I’ll find someone to replace me as babysitter from now on. I’ll pay him or her out of my own paycheck if necessary. This is my calling. Besides, Asher’s just too special, too unique, too human, to give up and pass off.