Page 33 of Veinblood
I hadn’t realized. Maintaining composure under stress should be second nature to me. Here, surrounded by unknown sights and sounds, my control feels paper-thin.
“This place … It’s unlike anything I’ve experienced.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t think. When I first arrived in your world, everything was overwhelming for me, too, but in a different way. The silence, the emptiness. It was terrifying after growing up with constant noise.”
Her words help. She adapted to Meridian’s environment. I can adapt to this one.
I close my eyes, and focus on my breathing. The shadows eventually settle, although they remain prepared, and I can still feel agitation from the raven moving around my body. Once I’m certain I have it under control, I open my eyes again.
“Ready?” Her palm doesn’t leave my face.
I nod, unwilling to speak. I don’t like how close to losing control I came. I don’t like how this place makes me feel.
I don’t like feeling weak.
“Those are the trains.” She points toward one of the metal contraptions that dwarf any transport I’ve ever seen. “They’re loud when they move, but they’re safe. Everything here is designed to handle thousands of people moving through every day.”
I study the metal beasts. People board and exit through multiple openings along their sides. No horses, no visible means of movement, yet they clearly transport large numbers easily.
“How do they move?”
“Electricity. Like the lights in the apartment, and the television, but much more powerful.” She pauses. “It’s … controlled lightning, in a way.”
Controlled lightning. The concept is both fascinating and unsettling.
“We have to purchase tickets to be able to use it, so we need to go over here first.”
I wait while she interacts with an odd device, which does nothing that I can see, and then she returns to where I’m standing.
“All done. Everything is tracked electronically. Where you go, when you go, how you pay for it. The government, companies … they all have records of your movements.”
“Does this tracking serve safety purposes or control?” In Meridian, the Authority controls through fear and force. Here, it seems to be exercised through information.
“Both, depending on who you talk to. Officials say it’s for security, preventing crime, and managing resources effectively. Critics say it’s about power, suppressing dissent, and controlling behavior through surveillance.”
“And what do you think?”
“I think there’s truth to both perspectives.”
Further conversation is delayed when thetrainarrives, and we board. Ellie picks a seat near a window, and I take the one beside her. The need to be able to see all around me wars with the reality that escape would be impossible if something went wrong. We’re trapped in a metal box, depending on systems I don’t understand, and traveling at speeds that would make jumping off fatal.
“What do you think?” Ellie’s voice snaps me out of the spiral I can’t seem to stop myself from falling into.
“Fast, but vulnerable. Everyone is trapped. Should something go wrong, it could be disastrous.”
She blinks. “I … never thought of it that way.”
I doubt the people around us have either. Some stare at those small glowing devices that Ellie called phones. Others sit quietly, lost in their own thoughts. A few engage in quiet conversations, but most seem to exist in individual bubbles of privacy, even when sitting so close to another person.
The differences between our worlds show in everything. Even strangers acknowledge each other’s presence in Meridian, sharing information about road conditions or potential dangers. Survival often depends on spontaneous cooperation with people you’ve never met before.
As we travel, I study the landscape passing outside, or what I can see of it.
“How many people live in this world?”
“On Earth? Over seven billion last I heard.”
“And they all live under the same governance?”
