He spotted something large and metallic rising into view in the chamber beyond the doors. It clanged to the ground loudly enough to make them all jump. It looked like a miniature metallic train car, sitting there in the darkness, the passenger cabin the only source of light in the decompressed room.

No wonder everyone’s departures had been spread out. The metal train car had a scattering of seats, but it obviously wasn’t meant for a heavy passenger load. Information soared through Tom’s brain: The Interstice is a series of magnetized vacuum tubes designed for traversion by magnetized vactrains propelled by magnetic fields. Given the absence of friction and minimal curvatures in the tubes, maximum speeds can reach 5,000 miles per hour. The vactrain is shielded to protect equipment inside from magnetic forces.

They all jumped when a mechanized voice boomed from overhead: “Recompression sequence initiated.” A chugging sound pervaded the air. The glass doors slid open to admit them into the room with the train car.

They all headed over and took seats inside the tiny metallic car. The doors slid shut behind them.

“Do we . . . press something?” Wyatt asked tentatively.

And then the mechanized voice boomed from overhead: “Decompression sequence initiated. Prepare for departure to Wyndham Harks Headquarters, New York City.”

The dark chamber depressurized around them, and the floor slid open. Tom caught a last glimpse of the room on the other side of the glass doors with its fake trees, and they were blown with stomach-swooping abruptness into the vacuum tube.

They all flinched, but they never hit the tracks. The car remained suspended magnetically within the tube, in midair. Pitch-blackness stretched on all sides beyond the lonely confines of their metal car. Then their velocity ticked up, and up, until they were moving several thousand miles per hour. Tom’s stomach danced with mounting speed.

“So tell us something,” Vik said, folding his arms and leaning back in his seat, eyes on Yuri. “Why are you really going with us?”

Yuri sighed and draped his arm around Wyatt, sitting rigidly in her seat next to his. “I am being sent because Olivia Ossare believes it would be beneficial for me to see professionals with jobs that are not in the Intrasolar Forces.”

Olivia was the Spire’s resident social worker. Tom knew that in the past, she’d encouraged Yuri to give up on the Intrasolar Forces, to surrender to the fact that he wasn’t getting promoted.

“Maybe it’s a good idea,” Vik said.

Wyatt glared at him. “No, it’s not.” Her scowl warned them to change the subject.

Vik opened his mouth, then closed it. Tom said nothing. They never talked to Yuri about this. It wasn’t something they did. So they moved on to something else.