Train to Nowhere

              I dreamed I was on a train going to a distant way station. The way station was used as a destination only on rare occasions because it was supposed to be a secret. You couldn't buy a ticket for the train. Only two ways on, accident (which is apparently how I boarded) or approval from the highest circles of power. Once on the train, it runs its route picking up passengers and freight, but never letting anything or anyone off. This was a one way ride.
              It didn't take me long to realize that I had missed my train and boarded the wrong one. There were no other passengers in any of the three passenger cars. Some of the seats were filled with silver briefcases, each of them chained to the steel supports of the seat in front of them. The driver's compartment was locked, but I could see no one in the driver's compartment through the small window. I walked back to the first freight car, looking at it across the platform at the back of the last passenger car. There was no "Wild West" passenger entrance on the end of the freight car. The wind roared past the open platform and I could feel little gusts of turbulence in the space between the cars. I walked back to the forward car and climbed up into the top of the car, sitting so I could see out of the narrow un-tinted windows in front of the train.
              I could tell we were nearing our destination when the train began to slow. Midday had given away to afternoon, then evening, and just had handed over to star filled night when the train bumped and rattled its way on to a much disused siding, every set of wheels sparking as they crossed the switch. I could see the siding dip below the level of the surrounding desert, and then we passed under a low stone arch and were completely underground for several moments.
              When we emerged from the tunnel at a slow crawl, I could plainly see hundreds of old military vehicles, planes and even boats of every description, at least what would fit on a flat car. In the distance were several block style warehouses and even a row of what looked to be apartments. Many cargo containers sat in double high rows, stretching away in dozens of streets and alleys all under some sort of camouflage net. I spotted what looked like a large satellite dish, and a pair of radar domes atop tall poles. It looked like there were missile batteries scattered throughout the depot. Some were armed, some were not. Still, I didn't see a single person. The train arrived at a small station. I looked for anyone to ask where I was, and when could I get back to my planned trip. The station was empty. The engine of the train spun down and save for the popping and groaning of cooling metal, the place was silent. Starlight, I figured out, was the entire source of light out here save for the bluish glow in a couple of windows in distant buildings.
              I turned to navigate my way to the lower level of the train, and found the interior to be pitch black. I made my way by touch and when I arrived on the lower level of the train, by the lit windows in the distance. The doors off the train were closed and apparently locked. There was no emergency button or crash bar that I could find. I plunked myself down in an empty seat near a door to wait for morning, and hopefully, the people who would come to remove the silver cases. I drifted off to sleep and was immediately surrounded by three lovely women. They tried to pull me off the train but were incorporeal, and unable to move me, or affect the doors of the train. And though they were attractive, there was an odd tingle that told me that I wouldn't really want to go with them anyway.
              Just at dawn, I heard a whirring noise and looked out over the station, small silver disks, glowing from some internal source floated across the platform towards the freight cars. I felt a bump as they were uncoupled, and smacked myself for forgetting that the platform door was open. I could have climbed out of the car at any time.
              I raced to the platform and stepped out as the line of freight cars rolled back away from us, then, improbably, were lifted off the rails one at a time by the six food wide silver disks and carried away towards either the warehouses or the city of cargo containers.
              "Hello!" I shouted out to them.
              Every one of them stopped where they were, seeming to be coming to some sort of decision. Most resumed their courses, but two of them set their cargo containers down and raced over to the passenger car where I stood. One silver disk stopped directly overhead and the other stopped level with the platform. Each disk came to a tapered edge, and really did look like two saucers together. There were no lights on them or markings of any kind. Air moved over them as though they were spinning, even though there was no visual indication that the surface was moving.
              "I think I boarded the wrong train in San Diego. Do you know when I can head back?"
              Again I had the distinct feeling that the disks were conferring with one another. If they weren't alive, they were controlled by someone so completely that they were able to convey a sort of confused and almost alarmed body language.
              "Don't worry, I'll just wait here. I'm not that hungry yet, the bathroom is clean, and there are comfortable seats."
              I got the impression they wanted me to 'stay right were I was and don't move!'
              "I can stay right here, but eventually I will have to use the restroom. Who were those women who visited me last night?"
              That caused both disks to wobble. I could feel a near panic in their motion. The one hovering over the end of the car raced off towards the small row of apartment buildings.
              I spoke quietly of how I had boarded the train in a rush in San Diego, thinking I had missed the train to Carlsbad. The platform had not been well lit and I may have transposed some numbers, "I do that from time to time, and more often when I'm tired. You're not from around here, and by here, I mean earth, are you?"
              The silvery disk actually backed away from the platform. Other disks began to arrive with empty flatcars, delicately placing them on the rails and linking them back up, but far away from the part of the train I was on. As each one finished they flew closer to where I was speaking to my guard. They stayed a considerable distance back from me. I was positive that even if they were craft of some sort, the minds controlling them were powerful in non-human ways.
              I introduced myself.
              They all froze in place.
              "I don't know if you're actual beings, or a vehicles controlled by beings, but I can tell you aren't homo sapiens, perhaps not even homo anything. Regardless of what happens to me, I want you to know that I'm delighted to have met you."
              I was bombarded by an odd mix of emotions: curiosity, friendship, worry, delight, concern (for me), and an overall sort of wistful feeling. Some of the emotions were shared amongst the group and some were individual.
              I found I had an overwhelming urge to reach out and touch them, to hug them. To just gather them in my arms and hold on to them. The universe had coughed up other intellects, and they were here, working in a secret rail yard. I thought that was a little anti-climactic, but decided it just added to the mystery. Most importantly, I wanted to help them, and I could tell, they needed some help, though not the sort I could likely provide.