Hallowed Be Thy Name
Parker yawned and suddenly realized his eyes were closed. He opened them and a bright image of the never-ending tunnel filled his view, hurting his retinas. He closed his eyes again quickly, blinked, and cautiously opened them again. Had he been asleep? If so, how long?
He spun around and looked behind him. The second SUV was still there. Neal and Bob were both still sleeping inside it. Parker could make out the shapes of his friends lying on the roof, but they weren’t moving. Colby was nearest and most visible, and he was asleep, too. Parker relaxed a bit, knowing they were all still together.
Up front, Jim and Jack were awake but not speaking, riding in silence, perhaps enjoying some quiet time to think about whatever it was people like them thought about after snatching a thirteen-year-old boy out of a crowded toy store and shuttling him quickly cross-country via an underground, lightning-fast train.
Parker wondered if the train were classified Top Secret. How secret did something like this have to be before it deserved to be classified? How much more secret did it have to be to warrant designation as Top Secret? What was above Top Secret? Really Secret? He recalled his dad occasionally referencing operations or projects as Black Ops, but he was never able to say much about them. If there was Black, maybe there was Above Black.
He removed the glasses and rubbed his eyes and yawned again, wishing for the billionth time that his dad were home so he could ask him this stuff.
“Mornin’!” Jim smiled from the front seat.
“How long was I asleep?”
“About an hour.”
“Is it really morning?” Parker asked, wondering how it possibly could be.
“Nah,” said Jim with a grin, “figure of speech. It’s hard to stay awake, I know. They keep saying they’re going to install some artwork down here, maybe an espresso bar, but they never do. Eventually, even a Top Secret underground train gets on your nerves.”
“Top Secret?” asked Parker.
“Of course,” replied Jim, “you think any ole Tom, Dick, or Harry can come down here and take a ride to the grocery store? Heck no. You gotta have a Top Secret clearance. And that’s not an easy thing to get.”
“Am I going to get a Top Secret clearance?”
“Well, my guess would be that it’ll be yours for the taking. Seeing as how you’ve already seen the train and all.”
“Who’s driving?” asked Parker.
“Nobody,” said Jim. “Well, the computer, technically. But not a person, if that’s what you mean.”
“The train has over four thousand sensors,” said Jack, “over ten thousand microprocessors and nanoprocessors, and quadruple-redundant systems. It’s better than a human being any day. Automate the whole transportation system, I say. Worldwide.”
“How could you?” asked Parker.
“Oh, Lord, here we go,” said Jim, shaking his head.
“Easy. Computers are faster and more reliable than people. Put them in charge of the whole enchilada. Have you seen those almond lanes out in Los Angeles?”
Parker shook his head. He’d never traveled anywhere on the other side of the Mississippi River.
“Well, there are special lanes, just for computer-controlled vehicles,” said Jack. “See, first there were diamond lanes, for carpooling, with big diamonds painted on the ground in white. Then, they made C-cubed lanes for Computer-Controlled Cars, and on these they painted big diamonds again but in blue. So, the lanes went from being called diamond lanes to blue diamond, like the big nut company, to almond lanes. Plus, lots of people say you gotta be nuts to let a computer drive your car for you like that. But the sensors and on-board computers measure the distance between the cars ten thousand times every second. The cars and trucks and buses drive twelve inches apart. That means ten times as many cars and ninety-six percent fewer accidents, all on the same stretch of road.” He brushed his hands together as if he’d just finished shoveling dirt out of a hole, smiling proudly as he did so.
“See, what Jackie-Boy here doesn’t understand,” said Jim, “is that people will never fully trust computers to replace actual, living people in situations where there are lives on the line. Especially not after The Attack.”
Jack opened his mouth to protest but Jim held up his hand, silencing him.
“I know airplanes can take off, fly across the ocean, and land themselves, but there are still flesh-and-blood people on board, sitting there babysitting the contraption. This train is of course an exception to the rule. But as soon as one of ’em derails and splatters us up and down ten miles of tunnel, that, too, will change.”
“Hasn’t happened yet,” Jack stated proudly.
“No, not yet,” Jim agreed.
“Like my friend Bubba says, ‘You play with plasma, eventually you get roasted.’”
“Who’s Bubba?” asked Jack.
“My friend back there.” Parker pointed over his shoulder before realizing what he had done.
“Back where?” said Jim.
Parker panicked. “Oh, uh, I meant in the toy store. So, are we almost there, then?” he quickly asked. Perhaps he could divert their attention away from where his friends were sleeping on the roof of the SUV behind them.
“Great,” said Jack, “now you’ve gone and scared him. If he starts bawlin’ I’m putting my earplugs in and you’re dealing with it.”
“No, I’m not scared,” said Parker. “Well, I am scared, I mean, maybe a little, but not of riding this train. I guess I just want to get wherever we’re going. I’m sick of waiting. Whatever’s going to happen, I’d rather get on with it.”
“Spoken like a true soldier,” declared Jim. He smiled proudly.
Being likened to a soldier intimidated Parker. He suddenly wasn’t as eager to reach their destination, even if there were the possibility of being given a Top Secret clearance. For a split second, he thought some good ol’ bawling might be just the thing, and he hoped if he lost control of himself it wouldn’t be in front of Jim and Jack, that he could find a bathroom or a broom closet or something. Before today, he hadn’t cried since Sunny’s golden Labrador, Budweiser, passed away, right after her brother was killed. Seeing her cry made him want to put his arms around her until she stopped, and he was unable to stop the tears from welling up in his own eyes. He hadn’t even cried this morning when he got the bad news about his dad. He imagined his dad lying in a cave somewhere, dead. Or dying. In accordance with his dad’s standing order, he refused to cry.
“To answer your question,” said Jim, “we are almost there. The junction should be just up the tunnel a bit.”
Parker concentrated on Jim, thankful for having something to pull him out of his emotional reverie.
A short time later, just as Jim had said, the train began to slow. It glided silently into a junction much larger than the one from which they’d come. This one had six different tracks stemming from six raised platforms. Where did those tracks lead?
The latches popped and the hydraulics whined. The front of the train opened on its hinges. Jack drove onto a platform and then down a black-and-yellow caution-striped ramp. Parker shot a glance over his shoulder. Sunny, Bubba, and Colby were still on the roof, awake now and clinging to the rack, trying to stay low. He was heartened to see they were still with him.
They drove through the same brand of dim, unremarkable tunnel, lit by the SUV’s powerful headlamps. Parker put his new glasses back on to see if he could find any noteworthy differences between where they had been and where they were going. More than once he had heard Bubba’s mom warn, “Those who ignore history are doomed to repeat it!” He had always assumed this pertained mostly to stuff like war and matters of diplomacy between nations, but he guessed it could also apply to Top Secret underground tunnels.
Although it was wider, and therefore, he surmised, able to accommodate more vehicles, it otherwise looked the same. The ground was gradually sloping upward. Parker became quite nervous again. His palms began to sweat. He was getting closer to finding out what this was all about. His immunity
to motion sickness notwithstanding, he thought now could be a fine time to start blowing chunks.
Chapter 6
The Other Side of the Rainbow