My heart races at the thought of following him down. But the terror of standing alone on a subway track with no knowledge of when the next train will come to run me over is enough to have me on my butt, shimmying into position as I hold the cover open and wrap my legs around the pole. Thank God I wore pants today.

Oh man. Oh Lord. Oh cheese puffs that I might barf up.

Here I go.

Air rushes around me as I shriek, my fingers burning from gripping the pole instead of loosening them as I should, but I just grip tighter. My eyes are squeezed shut, and my heartbeat is erratic. And then warm arms are catching me, holding me. I’m on solid ground. It’s over. It actually was fun.

I still might barf up cheese puffs.

A couple of corridors and a few calming breaths later, we arrive at another empty train platform.

“Welcome to the Atlas,” Michael says, gesturing toward the stretch of track in front of us, “a highly efficient maglev train system that connects all of Maker society.” Opaque glass walls block off the track in either direction, so I’m not sure how it leads anywhere.

“Maglev? Like magnetic levitation?” I read an article to Grandfather a few months ago about investors throwing money at Ozymandias Tech for a magnetic levitation project.

“Yes. The provincials are catching up with this technology. It allows for smooth travel at astonishing speeds.”

The climate in here is comfortable, and Michael removes his coat. He has a smart-looking cravat tied around his neck, tucked into a formal jacket that reaches his knees. Well, hello there. There’s no denying that this whole vintage professorial vibe works for him. Works for me.

“Ah, here we go,” he says, and I turn to see a train entering the station through a round entrance that has opened in the wall. “Airlocks,” Michael explains. “By reducing the air in the tunnels, there’s less drag on the train, allowing for greater speed.”

The train looks like a giant bronze bullet. It stops in front of us with silent grace, and numerous doors slide open. We enter, and the inside is even more magnificent. The walls are polished cherrywood, and there are couches and chairs all upholstered in jeweled-toned velvets. Crystal chandeliers hang from the ceiling.

Michael settles onto an ocean-blue divan, and I sigh into a deep red winged chair as I continue to take in my surroundings. With the changing light through the window, I realize we’ve been moving for a few moments already.

“If we’re going as fast as you say, how come I don’t feel it at all?” I ask in amazement.

Michael grins so wide that my own cheeks ache. “Welcome to the possibilities of a world where everyone devotes their lives to creativity and innovation,” he says.