“Come on,” Paul said, holding open the door. It was made out of the same material as the rest of the small building and fitted to match its shape.

Sofia went in first, then Tick, then Paul, who closed the door behind him.

The inside was a perfect cylinder, completely covered in thick, rubbery padding that was a burnt-orange color. Along the bottom, a bench protruded from the walls—also covered in soft padding—making a circle for the passengers to sit and stare at each other.

“This is a train?” Tick asked no one in particular. An uneasy feeling crept into his bones.

“What do we—” Paul began, but was cut off by an electronic woman’s voice coming from unseen speakers.

“Please present your tickets,” it said, a soft monotonous tone that made Tick feel sleepy. He clasped his ticket between his thumb and forefinger, holding it up into the air; the others did the same.

“Cleared. State your desired time of departure.”

“As soon as possible,” Sofia said in a loud voice.

“It’s not deaf,” Paul whispered, getting an elbow in the gut from Sofia in return.

“Checking departures. One moment, please.” A pause, then: “Six Forty-Four is acceptable. Please stand on the foot rest, backs against the wall.”

“Huh?” Paul asked.

“Just do it,” Sofia said, climbing on to the bench.

“Three minutes to departure.”

Tick stepped onto the padded bench, surprised at how firmly it held him. He rested his back against the soft wall; Paul and Sofia had done the same, the three of them spaced evenly apart, exchanging worried glances.

“This is weird,” Paul said.

“That about sums it up,” Tick agreed.

“It’s obviously okay. All those other people are doing it,” Sofia said. “We can’t expect every Reality to be just like ours.”

“One minute to departure.”

“What do we do—just stand here?” Paul asked.

Sofia rolled her eyes. “You can do jumping jacks if you want.”

“You’re telling me you’re not a little scared?”

“I am,” Tick said.

“Maybe a little,” Sofia said.

“Thirty seconds to departure.”

No one said a word after that; Tick counted down inside his head.

“Ten seconds.” A pause. “Five. Four. Three. Two. One. Departure initiated.”

The room began to rotate clockwise, slowly at first, but then it picked up speed.

“Oh, no,” Tick said. “I can’t do this—I’ll throw up all over you guys.”

They spun faster and faster. Tick felt a pressure on his skin, squeezing his limbs and his torso, like an invisible force pushing him against the curved wall at his back. In a matter of seconds, he’d lost track of their rotation speed, his mind and stomach disoriented, his body sinking into the padding. His thoughts whirled as fast as his body, spinning clockwise in a tight circle.

Something clicked in Tick’s mind.