The Devil's Triangle (24 page)

For all that Brad had told Sam that the raptors were technologically advanced, until the train pulled into the station it had been difficult to believe. Even the construction of the building had not prepared him for this.

‘Wow!’ Sam exclaimed, echoed a fraction of a second later by Callum.

‘That looks like our train, boys,’ Brad announced. ‘Stick close to Nipper. There’ll be raptors on board who may need reminding that we’re not the buffet.’

The boys stumbled forward, their focus more on the amazing vehicle than looking where they were going. The train was bullet-like, with a sleek, tapered front end and an almost tubular construction along to an aerofoil-shaped tail end. Unlike the
clickety-clacking
of trains that Sam had ridden on in the UK, this silver beast glided into the station like a shimmering ghost, glossy and silent. Its diameter was closer to that of the aircraft they had flown across the Atlantic in than to any train Sam had seen before.

‘How can something that size move so silently?’ Callum asked. ‘It doesn’t seem possible.’

‘My understanding is that it works on a blend of nuclear and electromagnetic technology,’ Brad explained. ‘I know it’s hard to credit, but the train floats on a cushion of air . . .’

‘A hover-train, but it’s huge!’ Sam exclaimed. ‘And surely there’d be a draught and noise from the fans.’

‘No, not a hover-train precisely,’ Brad said, shaking his head. ‘There are no fans. The train is being held in the air by an incredibly strong magnetic repulsion force. You must have played with magnets in your science lessons at school. Try to push two like poles together and it’s tricky, right?’

The boys nodded.

‘Well, that’s the principle, except the magnetic forces between the train and rail are thousands of times stronger. Electromagnetic forces also drive the train, though I don’t understand exactly how it works. The results are spectacular. This thing cruises at over 300 miles per hour.’

‘Woah! Cool!’ Callum breathed.

The subtle, subsonic
thrum
that vibrated through his body increased in intensity as they neared the train. Sam put his hand on his chest. The vibration ran deep inside.

‘Do you feel that?’ he asked Callum.

‘Yes. What do you think it is?’

‘I don’t know. Must be something to do with the electromagnetic generators, I guess. Whatever it is, it’s not helping my nerves.’

‘I know what you mean.’

There was no obvious door into the train, but Nipper led them confidently forward and as if by magic, a large rectangular door shape appeared directly in front of him, sinking first inwards and then sliding sideways to reveal the strange interior of the gigantic silver vehicle.

‘Don’t we need tickets?’ Sam asked.

‘No,’ Brad said, stepping up and in through the door. ‘The raptors don’t use currency. They work together in a complex cooperative. Humans could learn a lot from their mentality.’

A narrow aisle ran down either side of the train and another along the very centre. There were no seats, but instead, there were rows and rows of half-cylinders made of something that looked like semi-transparent plastic. They ran floor to ceiling and were all angled back at about twenty degrees from vertical towards the back of the train. Each formed a mini-alcove big enough for a single raptor or person.

‘Well, would you look at that!’ Callum exclaimed softly. ‘They remind me of tilted Borg alcoves from
Star Trek
without all the flashing lights and stuff.’

‘I was never a
Star Trek
fan,’ Brad admitted. ‘But I doubt the Enterprise ever had anything quite like these.’

Nipper led the way along the central aisle until he found a row that was totally empty and then he directed the boys into the alcoves to their right.

‘Pick an alcove, step inside and lean back,’ Brad told them. ‘Quickly! Raptors don’t react well to being delayed. That’s it. Enjoy the ride, boys. It’s probably best if you don’t leave your alcove until the train stops. You’ll be safe while you stay inside.’

Sam frowned, but moved along the row until he reached the alcove closest to the window. Callum took the one next to him. Leaning against a plastic wall for hours was not exactly his idea of fun. How long would it take to reach their destination? Brad had said it was about a thousand miles away, so it would take at least three hours. With a sigh of resignation, he stepped into the alcove, put his hands against the walls and leaned back.

‘WOAH!’

Rather than the cold, solid plastic Sam had been expecting to feel, the surface gave as he leaned back, causing him to lose his balance and fall back harder. He experienced a fleeting moment of panic as he felt his body and the back of his head sinking into the semi-liquid surface. Thoughts of suffocation and drowning flitted through his mind, to be replaced almost instantly by yet another sense of wonder as the strangely elastic quality of the material kept him from sinking too far into it.

He heard Callum’s yell from the neighbouring tube and then Brad’s calming voice telling them not to panic. The older man’s reassuring tones helped him relax. There was a sort of tickling sensation as the substance settled round him and began to harden. Brad stuck his head around the side of the alcove and gave him a grin.

‘Interesting, isn’t it?’ he said.

‘Incredible!’ Sam replied.

‘Try standing up and doing it again, both of you. This time sit back into it, rather than lean. It’s more comfortable for a journey like this.’

Sam did as he was told. As he pushed away from the surface, he instinctively brushed at his clothes and ran his fingers through the back of his hair to see if any of the substance was still attached. It wasn’t. No sooner had he stood up than the surface of the tube returned to its former shape, looking perfectly rounded and solid. He tried again, more confidently this time, and discovered that Brad was right. It was like sitting into a shallow, reclining chair that had been made specifically for his body.

‘It feels sort of like a high-tech beanbag,’ he observed.

‘That’s a pretty good analogy,’ Brad agreed. ‘Once the surface has settled and hardened sufficiently, you’ll find the entertainment begins automatically.’ Brad looked first into Sam’s alcove and then Callum’s, but directed his comments into both. ‘My personal favourite is channel three, as you don’t need to understand the raptor language to appreciate it. To change the channel, reach out and touch the symbol at the bottom right. The off symbol is top centre.’

‘Bottom right of what?’ Sam heard Callum ask. ‘I don’t see anything.’

‘You’ll understand when it kicks off,’ Brad replied. ‘The normal default is the news channel that was playing in the station. I’d better go get into my alcove now. We’re about to start moving. Have fun.’

Sam settled and sat back, allowing the strange substance to mould and harden around him. As it reached a solid state, he noticed that the edges of the alcove began to grow out and around to enclose him in a complete tube. Brad hadn’t said anything about this, but Sam was determined not to panic.

‘It’s a good job I’m not claustrophobic,’ he muttered, as the walls met and sealed.

No sooner was he totally enclosed than a raptor’s head appeared right in front of him and its voice filled the tube. Despite expecting something like this, Sam still jumped. The proximity of the creature’s pointed teeth was unnerving and for a moment he imagined he could smell its meaty breath.

Several three-dimensional icons appeared around the central image. Bottom right to change the channel Brad had said. Sam reached out with his right hand and extended a finger towards the diamond shape there. There was a momentary snowstorm of static and then he was in a forest, apparently looking through another’s eyes. He looked around. It felt incredibly real.

He was moving at a walking pace between the trees. Distant birdsong and more immediate insect noises filled the air. The forest was nothing like the jungle he had walked through earlier. This looked more like the sort of woodland he would have expected to find in Canada or North America: huge trees, minimal undergrowth and an airy, cathedral-like atmosphere. Sam drew in a deep breath through his nose, half expecting to smell the pine scent on the air. His imagination added a hint of it, just as it had with the raptor’s breath, and he felt a smile tilt up the corners of his mouth.

A movement ahead and to the right caught his attention. Something was there. His viewpoint paused in its forward motion as if waiting, or listening. Sam found himself holding his breath, not wanting to make a sound. With breathtaking suddenness, he exploded forward, accelerating between the trees with a bounding rhythm that revealed the nature of what he was experiencing. This was a hunt through the eyes of a raptor. Fascinating though it was, Sam knew it was only likely to end one way and although he was not squeamish, he reached for the channel button again.

The brief snowstorm this time was replaced by something totally mind-blowing. It was no wonder that Brad liked this channel, he thought. What he guessed he was seeing was a live feed from the top of the front of the train. Although Sam had not felt any movement since climbing aboard, there was no sign of the station and the trees were already whipping past at a fair lick. The track stretched away ahead into the distance. If he had to guess, he would say they were already moving at about sixty miles per hour and slowly accelerating. It was a perfect opportunity to see something of this strange world, he realised.

‘I wonder what 300 miles per hour will feel like,’ Sam muttered, looking around. The view from the top of the train was great. On one side he could see across the treetops all the way to the sea. On the other side was more jungle, broken occasionally by what looked like a network of marsh and inland waterways. Even as Sam watched, a line of what looked like enormous alligators raced down a bank to slip into one of the channels. This, in turn, triggered a mass of waterbirds to launch into the air in a flurry of warning squawks and shrieks.

‘Cool!’ Sam breathed. ‘It’s like being inside the camera of a nature documentary.’

Accelerating smoothly, the train raced faster and faster until it was hurtling along at a greater velocity than any train he had ever been on. The quicker it went, the more breathtaking Sam’s viewpoint became.

Aside from occasional clusters of geodesic structures and the rail line ahead, the only other evidence Sam saw of raptor technology were strange, double cone-shaped structures that funnelled into opposing ends of gleaming cylinders of shining copper. He saw lots of them during the journey, some near the tracks and others further off in the distance. It took a while for him to realise that every one of them was aligned in the same direction. He couldn’t be certain, but his best guess was that they must be something to do with the energy conversion process of turning this world’s enhanced magnetic field into electricity.

His theory was given a further boost when he spotted two particularly large cone and cylinder structures near a large cluster of the geodesic raptor buildings. What made no sense, though, was that there appeared to be nothing connecting the strange-looking structures to the nearby houses. Was the energy transmitted underground? He could not see any other way.

A large expanse of water opened on Sam’s left and he gave a yip of excitement as he spied dozens of long necks protruding from the water. One was fairly close. What was it? Brontosaurus? Diplodocus? He did not know his dinosaurs well enough to tell. Even if he had, Sam realised these were not the dinosaurs of Earth as the fossil history showed them. Having had another sixty-five million years or so, there was no telling which dinosaurs had continued to evolve, which had remained relatively unchanged and which were extinct.

This last thought turned his mind back to his mother’s fate. Was she still at the City of the Imperium? Would he recognise her? His memories of her were so vague. The only image he held in his mind was that of the picture next to his dad’s bed, taken just over nine years ago. Nine years was a long time. Would she have changed much?

‘Please be alive, Mum,’ he breathed, looking forward at the long line of the track ahead. ‘And don’t do anything silly. I’m coming to find you.’

Brad had barely settled into his alcove when the burning began in his bladder. Irritated, but unable to ignore the building pressure, he realised he had not explained to the youngsters what to do if they needed to go while they were on board.

Go first and tell them afterwards
, he told himself.

Pushing away from the wall, he stood up and the front walls of the tube withdrew, leaving him clear to step out of his alcove. He paused for a second outside Nipper’s. Should he tell the raptor where he was going?

We’ve just left the station, he thought
. The raptors will all be in their alcoves.
I’m only going to be a minute
.

He moved silently towards the rear of the train along the central aisle. The further he went, the more he relaxed. He had been right. There was no sign of movement anywhere. Lots of alcoves were sealed, but there were still a good number of open ones. As he reached the final partition, he peered into the compartment that housed the waste-disposal units. It was empty. He crossed the small open area to one of the middle waste units and relieved himself into it.

Zipping up his shorts, he turned, intending to stride off back to his alcove. A hulking raptor was standing in the middle of the compartment no more than three paces away. Brad almost fell forward into it as he momentarily fought for balance. It was staring at him with unblinking eyes.

‘Woah! You move quietly for a big fella!’ Brad exclaimed aloud. He concentrated and in raptor language said the words,
‘You quiet move.’

The huge raptor drew back the flesh around his lipless mouth to reveal his teeth. Nipper did this when he was amused, which Brad took as a sign that the creature was in good humour. He smiled back and nodded. Keen to get back to his alcove, Brad took a step to the left with the intention of going around the raptor. The raptor immediately moved to block his way.