The subway is in a perpetual state of slow-motion collapse in New York, so one of the nation's most reputable magazines saw fit to publish a proposal to replace it with luxury autonomous cars, scooters, and an endless stream of advertisements. Aboveground traffic is worse than ever in LA and Chicago, so both those cities' mayors called in the preeminent CEO of for-profit future tech ideation to fix the snarl—Elon Musk's Boring Company is already drilling tunnels underneath Los Angeles, and has just won a contract to connect O'Hare Airport with central Chicago. The company insists the massive project will cost less than $1 billion, and is reportedly building it free of charge to the city, provided it can reap the revenue from "the system’s transit fees and any money generated by advertisements, branding and in-vehicle sales."

You know what I get with this TesPass? The privilege of waiting in the Commoner line for every third train, the only ones we are permitted to board, while we are forced to listen to their ads. This was the “compromise” when they were allowed to acquire the subway, to retain a freemium model so it was still technically open to the public. The rest of the trains are reserved for them—the subscribers—in all their bedecked luxury, replete with footstools, waitstaff, a bathroom, and a bar. And, of course, no ads.

And thus my commute began, as it so often has since TesCorp took over the subway, with a subbro in my face. It’s par for the course these days. Just trying to get to work when a subbro calls me a commie and next thing you know a station enforcer is threatening to revoke my pass. Well go ahead, fucking revoke it.

“I’ve been in my section this whole time.”

Believe it or not, that last bit of news dropped long after the author of this week's Terraform piece— Aaron Gordon, the Village Voice's transit reporter and the scribe behind Signal Problems , a weekly newsletter about the New York Subway—submitted this story, which, chillingly, imagines a near future in which the subway has devolved from reliable public good into a private, tiered subscription model service where, well, you'll see. Enjoy. -the ed

“My elbow didn’t touch his,” I retorted. “He banged it on something and blamed me.”

“Whatever,” the subbro dismissed as a SubTrain pulled up, “I don’t have time for this. I have a subway to catch.”

“Remember,” the ever-present public address announcement, in a soothing quasi-robotic female voice, echoed, “ Who owns the press.”

“Fucking Subbro,” I muttered under my breath, unable to take his haughtiness any longer. I turned to go to the back of the Commoner line, which I only just now noticed stretched all the way to the other end of the station, meaning I’ve got a 45 minute wait, at least, to board a train. Another “perk.”

“ Humans are underrated.”

But the Subbro wasn’t done with me yet. “What did you say? WHAT DID YOU SAY?!”

Now I had done it.

“Did you...did you call me a Subbro? That is a slur, sir. THAT IS A SLUR. You heard him, right?” he inquired dejectedly from the station enforcer.

“ Remember… who controls the polls.”

“I heard him,” the enforcer acknowledged. He then muttered under his breath so only I could hear, “I don’t wanna do this, man, but I gotta find a replacement.”

Yep, I had definitely done it. Third time this year, no way I was going to be able to talk my way out of this one with the boss. I was as good as fired.

“Have a nice day, commie,” the Subbro spat as he whirled around and waltzed onto the SubTrain.