Note: This is original, but Montreal really exists, as do CN, Montrain, and the AMT. None of them endorse this work. I'm not sure if they'd want to.

The day is the 30th of June, 2024. Hello. My name is Pika Sinasina. I’ll be driving this train. I happen to be a female Nuanua. I’m also a CN "Nuanua-Crystal-Operator." Well, I’m also qualified to operate several "normal" locomotives, but you need a female Nuanua to drive a "crystal-induction" locomotive.

Ok, so first I’ll begin with a bit of detail about myself. I’m 25 years old, and I came from Avalon, on the planet Le Nuanua. I have slightly tanned skin, and mostly look like the humans who live here, except that my ears are pointy. I’m 5’9" in height. And then there’s my hair. It’s very long, like the hair of all female Nuanua (in our language we do NOT pluralize it with an s), and I keep mine in four braids. My hair is dark red with brown and orange highlights. Some of us put weird highlights in our hair.

At about five in the morning on most mornings, I get up at about five a.m., and put on my oyeka-lavalava. That’s what was traditionally worn by the Magi-Commandos back where I came from, special soldiers trained to use their powers, and since they were the first ones to power those special locomotives, it’s universal that "Nuanua-Crystal-Operators" dress this way. Basically it’s a set of four pieces of cloth, the first one just wrapped around me like a skirt, the other three wrapped around me like the Indian sari. Of course, working for CN, red is the color of choice. I put on badges with the CN and Montrain logos. Then I leave my apartment on St. Catherine. I’ll walk through the underground passageways that connect numerous shopping centers, and stop for a quick meal at one of the cafés in Place Ville-Marie. Then I walk into Central Station, or Gare Central in French. And I’m sent to my first train, sometimes actually carrying passengers, sometimes deadheading to the other end of one of the lines. It’s CN that supplies the crews, but the trains themselves belong to the Agences Metropolitaine de Transport, or the AMT for short.

Now you’re probably wondering what is it I do, why do they need a female Nuanua? Magic. Or at least that’s what most people here think of it as. We like to think of it as a natural ability. At the end of each braid, I wear a small crystal with protruding spikes on it, called a pana. I extend my hair upward, to keep the pana in contact with special crystals. Then I send special energy, called mana (but you could call it "chi" or "force" if you really want to) through my hair, through the pana, and into the crystals. The crystals are connected via special wire to several wheel shaped devices that react to this magic. The larger ones, of which there are three or four, are called Lara’s Wheels (in French, "roues supérieurs"), and transform my power into an obscene amount of electricity to run the motors. The smaller ones, of which there are usually twice as much, are called Teuila’s wheels (and the French term is – you got it – "roues inferieurs") These provide HEP, or Head-End-Power, which gives lights and air conditioning and heating to the coaches. Lara and Teuila are two of the most famous female Nuanua known throughout the galaxy. So yes, I’m not just the engineer. I’m part of the engine, or at least I power it.

Now that you have some background. I’m going to take you for a ride in the cab of an N-66. This funny locomotive had the traction motors, wheels, and trucks built by General Electric. The rest is supplied by Lupe Siliva, a company from my home planet. It’s a boxcab, and vaguely resembles the AEM-7 of Amtrak fame. Unlike the AEM-7, though, the front and back panels of the locomotive are completely glass, giving me a better view of what’s in front of me. If you look inside, you’d ask where the controls are. Well, I do most of the controlling with my hair. By mentally concentrating, I easily adjust the amount of power, and the resulting speed and horsepower in the process. But we do have foldaway control panels so that this locomotive could operate as a cab for a diesel or electric at the other end of the train, immediately behind, if need be.

So now that you’re here and I am, in the cab of an N-66, it’s time to get things started. Don’t worry, I can talk while concentrating at the same time. It takes talent, but it can be done. To get me in the right mood, at the same time I do the standard air-brake tests, I hum a few bars of Enya to myself. I have to test the brakes, it’s the law, and if I’m not testing the brakes, what’s stopping me? I know, bad joke. Then I raise my braids and put them over a couple of beams, and I "plug" the pana in. Then I do another test, and I can sense whether or not any of the wheels is defective. And then I look north, just past theend of the platform. The light is red, the light is red, the light is…green. And the conductor notifies me that we’re ready to go. The consist this time is a set of twelve 1200 series cars, second-hand from Toronto. I focus, and the "magical" sound of the crystals reacting fills the cab, but it’s soon drowned out by the hum of the lectrical motors. The bells ring out as the train begins leaving the station.

We are going underneath Place-Ville Marie, and then into an old two-track tunnel, although the track and lighting are relatively new (but both put in before I was born.) If you look carefully you’ll notice the catenary wires above the tracks. Before AMT decided to experiment with Nuanua, the only type of power allowed in this tunnel was electric.

The occasional details go by, there’s a places where vents are located. We stop at a rather newer station, Edouard-Montpetit. I love the hiss of the airbrakes, and the squeal of the wheels. Notice the hot pink and dusty rose of the walls and the coluns? And the catenary supports here resemble part of a guitar. Notice the elevators, and the stairwells. Some lead to the surface, others, to the Metro station.

Now let’s move along…right, when the conductor says so. Ok, right now. We’re back in the tunnel, but not for long. And as soon as we exit, we’re at Canora. Once again, we stop. We’re in a trench here, and we can see the next station, Mont-Royal, a short distance away.

Besides passengers, there’s two types of people oyu’ll be seeing a lot of. Most of them have cameras. You have your railfans, who are paying attention to the train. And then you have a new class of people who just look for Nuanua. Yes, they’re all boys and men, and they always gather around the locomotive.

No, I’ll never date one of those men. On a couple of occasions I had a bunch of those men standing on the track, blocking the train. Some of them are whistling, others are holding pieces of paper with their names and phone numbers. And the rest are holding cameras and camcorders. Some are even trying to get a peak up my clothing. Of course, when they block the rails, I ring the bells, and then blast the airhorn if necessary, or if I’m really upset (especially if some of the worst perverts are hanging around), I’ll open the door, whip out my radio, and pretend to be notifying the police. Other times I’ll actually do it. Because telling these people off is no good, some of them are TURNED ON by me telling them off. And the railfans will be on my side and chase off the perverts, because to the railfans, the perverts are committing sacrilege. And the railfans are right.

Back to our journey. After leaving Canora (none of the idiots this time), we go to Mont-Royal, which shares its name with the mountain we passed through. After all its incarnations, the station building, up on the hill to your left, actually serves as a station again, although there’s also a small restaurant, I’ve been there once, the food’s good.

Now we continue on, and soon we’re no longer in a trench. We pass underneath the 40, also known as the Metropolitain, also known as an elevated highway. Now we’re at the Jonction d’Est, where the Deux-Montagnes subdivision dives underneath the crossing track and goes to Montpellier station. But we’re turning right. A couple of old-timers will probably complain, there used to only be one route that went through the tunnel. Sorry, I’m taking the route I’m taking. So we’re going onto the St. Laurent subdivision.

And so we head east, with more stops on the way. Sauvé is a very popular stop because it offers interchange with the Metro. Ahuntsic and Pointe-Aux-Trembles have VIA signs, since VIA Rail also stops there. There, we’re passing a general CN freight train, hauled by a GP-70ACE. If only the freight cars could talk, they’d tell me where they’re from, and where they’re going.

We cross a couple of bridges, and leave the island. Repentigny is our last stop for this run. I hope you enjoyed the ride. As for me, I’ll simply change ends of this train. And do the usual brake tests. I’ll also talk to the conductor before we leave, and, like has been done for a long time, we’ll synchronize our watches. The railroad depends on us being swish watches…oops, I meant Swiss watches, but then again, I don’t know much about anything from Switzerland. Except that they have so much electrification they’re unlikely to experiment with Nuanua-powered trains. Thanks to my "sisters" and I (the other Nuanua drivers aren’t REALLY my sisters, but we see each other that way), the AMT is free to try all kinds of routes without having to invest in electrification. They even run a few St. Hyacinthe to St. Eustache and St. Jerome trains. I enjoy knowing that I’m making a difference.

Besides the AMT, I also get to haul Amtrak’s Adirondack through the tunnel. Remember when it terminated in Montreal? Not anymore, it continues to Quebec City.

I love my job. The only drawback is that if one of my sisters is sick, I may have to fill her shift, or most of it. I do need to rest a few hours every time I moe (sleep, the term we use instead of "die" when the twelve hours are up.) And then there’s the jerks I talked about before. But that’s a minor annoyance. What’s the pluses? Well, I like feeling I’m helpful. And then there’s the great people I work with, even though there is one conductor who’s a bit pushy, for obvious reasons I cannot name him.

You’re probably wondering, what do I think of Montreal. I really like it. Eat a bagel, walk on the mountain, admire something in a museum, and go between it all in our world-class transit system.

Well, I hope you had a pleasant journey. SEE YOU!

Shoutouts: The usual

Author's Notes: Just had an idea to do something about a female Nuanua driving a train, so that's what I did. I hope you liked it. Any ways I could improve this? Please let me know!