a network of railways traverses the continent. passengers make thankful use of the frequent and rapid services. sometimes, a seat in the passenger compartment is occupied by something that is not a person. perhaps it once was a person, perhaps it was originally constructed in its current form. this is irrelevant, hidden underneath the reflective exterior shell.
it is not certain why drones ride a train from one facility to another, when all are interchangeable and they can transmit their data at nearly the speed of light. perhaps they act as couriers for vital components. perhaps drones are not quite as interchangeable as is assumed.
spotting your first drone on the train is a bit of a rite of passage in your community of train nerds. you are just underway in the six-seat compartment, preparing for the six hour trip by making a new playlist when the drone enters. this is the first time you have ever seen one up close. it moves smoothly and soundlessly to the seat furthest away from you and sits down. lights on its visor beat a slow rhythm as it just sits and stares silently. on its lap it carries a smoothly polished metal cube, twenty centimeters on all sides.
you try to pay attention to your phone, get some enthusiasm into your carefully selected music, but all your focus is pulled back to the drone that remains motionless as the carriage swings back and forth over turns and switches. you cannot hide your interest in the gleaming figure opposite you. a person would certainly notice, but the drone appears to pay you no heed. so you sit for an eternity, studying its shape and textures, reassuring yourself that it's not objectification if the view you're so hung up on is already an object.
you can't take it any longer. you need contact. you prepare to introduce yourself. your clumsy attempt cannot even get started because the drone interrupts you in its voice, monotone, synthetic and beautifully stirring up a deep ache you never knew you had always felt. 'hello. we have some topics to discuss.'